The Pursuit of Harpyness » PhDorkhttp://www.harpyness.com
As narrated by the most charming and vicious women on the internetSat, 29 Sep 2012 11:37:30 +0000en-UShourly1http://wordpress.org/?v=3.8.5Friday Fun Thread: Music for BAMFshttp://www.harpyness.com/2011/11/11/friday-fun-thread-music-for-bamfs/
http://www.harpyness.com/2011/11/11/friday-fun-thread-music-for-bamfs/#commentsFri, 11 Nov 2011 15:36:12 +0000http://www.harpyness.com/?p=21591I’ve been running around like a harpy with its head cut off for at least a week, and I’ll try to sustain that for at least another week, and probably all they way through Thanksgiving, which seems simultaneously light years away and practically tomorrow.

It’s job- and post-doc-application season. Since late last month, I’ve sent out 12 bloated application packages, and I’ve got at least another 12 to work on. For the moment, I’m trying to ignore the odds that I know are stacked against me and just get shit done.

It’s grading season. I have a stack of nearly 40 papers that want my attention.

For the moment, I’m keeping it together LIKE A BOSS (or at least LIKE A BOSS’S ADEPT PERSONAL ASSISTANT), but I’ve noticed that I’m developing a hump over my left shoulder. Part of how I’m keeping it together is with regular internal application of ethyl alcohol, in the form of A Beer After Dinner. Another part is my soundtrack. NPR is not going to cut it right now (and if I hear any more ignorant shit about Penn State, I’m going to explode). Neither is mope-rock, singer-songwriter stuff, or jaunty American Songbook classics, all of which I like at times. I need POP, preferably ’80s pop with a dose of synth, like our friend George up there. If I’m cleaning house, it’s The Mamas and The Papas and other folkies (a legacy from MamaDork), but I want it nice and fluffy when I’m pushing paper.

I usually don’t listen to music while I’m writing, so I’m leery of distractions. I want something light yet propulsive, but not too intrusive. It may not be great music, but it helps me do great stuff. Or stuff that is in great need of doing. After George, I’ll be heading down Pat Benatar highways and up Erasure lanes.

So, my busy bees, today’s FFT is about the music you use to help you Take Care of Business. No shame, no snobbery here. What’s on your iPod, stereo, or Spotify playlist when it’s time for you to be a BAMF?

Well, sorta. I feel compelled to talk about her, having never seen her show and only knowing about her in a vague, hazy fashion. And of course all this extravagant-wedding-quickly followed-by-divorce stuff is unignorable.

Ms. K is getting seriously lady-bashed recently. I don’t really think much of her critical thinking skills, perhaps, but what I’m reading and hearing everywhere, from women and men, is soaked in misogyny: Gold-digger! Stupid whore! Slutty sex-taping, plastic, shilling, rich bitch! And her sisters are ugly/dumb/etc., and her mom is a monstrous beast with spiny, poison-dripping tentacles. And her (ex-) husband? …uhhhhhmmmm. Who was he again? Oh, that poor sap, getting sucked in by those evil wimmenz.

Not only am I hearing this from men and women, but from lefties and righties, too. Righties because KK is a sign of what horrors women, unrestrained by men, are capable of wreaking. And lefties are bashing her because the fiasco of grotesque display that was her made-for-media wedding provides a convenient pretext to attack anti-marriage-equality types. But they’re not really attacking anti-marriage-equality types, they’re attacking her. They’re saying “this idiot slagbag can get married, why not these other nice people?”

I’m not really asking you to break out your tiny violins for Kim Kardashian, or think she’s a benevolent super-genius. She might be crying all the way to the bank, but I wager she’ll be fine. My point is that the people who are slavering over KK’s shame, pain, discomfort, whatever, and beating her up for funsies, are the the same people who gobbled up her show and bought crappy cheap weeklies to gawk at her and her sisters. And fuck those people, who consume other humans, salty, bitter, or sweet, and shit all over women for their own nasty pleasure.

And at the risk of offending our readers: if you’re one of those people, fuck you, too. By participating in this crap, you are partly responsible for making things even worse than they are for women. For her, and for all the rest of us. Your hunger for this kind of exploitation, your acceptance of The Rise and Fall of Kim Kardashian as entertainment, is what makes this possible. Look at your choices.

]]>http://www.harpyness.com/2011/11/03/i-cant-believe-im-writing-this-but/feed/17Friday Fun Thread: Trick-or-Treat!http://www.harpyness.com/2011/10/28/friday-fun-thread-trick-or-treat/
http://www.harpyness.com/2011/10/28/friday-fun-thread-trick-or-treat/#commentsFri, 28 Oct 2011 14:00:09 +0000http://www.harpyness.com/?p=21494We talked about candy last week, before I discovered that eating my beloved candy corn together with salted peanuts is EVEN MORE DELICIOUS. Why did no one tell me about this?

And now we’re going to talk about costumes, because duh, it’s Halloween.

I wasn’t really good at costumes as a kid. And I guess my mom wasn’t either, since that’s who puts in the real effort when it comes to making Halloween stuff, which was the norm when I was a trick-or-treater. She did make me a pretty sweet witch hat, though, which I wore approximately one zillion times. I am a costume recycler; once I had the stuff, I usually used it multiple times. I think I went as a present (wearing an enormous, gift-wrapped box) three years in a row. Ditto witch. Ditto gypsy. Weak sauce.

The Dude, on the other hand, had a crazy, novel costume every year. MamaDude was a total Halloween badass, and seeing the pictures of the Dude and his Sister in ornate, handmade, culturally-relevant-for-children get-ups over the years–the “Ghostbusters” logo! A Garbage Pail Kid!–always makes me marvel (and, yes, quiver with retroactive jealousy).

Last year, I had my shit together, and I pulled together a cop outfit and went as Officer Strunk of the Chicago Grammar Police to one party (which was a big hit with the nerds), and then as Marceline the Vampire Queen from the cartoon series Adventure Time. So, if I end up doing anything this year, I’ll pull out one of those and wear it. I wanted to dress up this year as Brünnhilde, from Wagner’s Die Walküre. I sketched it months ago, and started figuring out how I’d sew an “armored” bodice and fashion a spear and shield out of cardboard. (I am a big believer in the DIY aesthetic when it comes to Halloween. Renting stuff feels like cheating to me.)

But then I didn’t have any rad costume party invitations. And my money situation doesn’t have a lot of room for buying fabric and craft supplies. And I’m spending most of my free time looking and applying for jobs, which is arguably more important.

So, for this week’s FFT: I need some tales of costume awesomeness. Or hilarious costume shame, if you’re no longer scarred by the memories. Did you wear tie-on plastic smocks and itchy masks of cartoon characters? (I did. Bugs Bunny, when I was maybe 5.) Were you one of those wildly creative kids who came up with conceptual costumes that wowed your friends neighbors? And did you deal with the horror of having to wear your heavy coat over your costume, thereby ruining the entire effect? Man, I hated that.

Hi harpy-friends! It’s Friday, Friday, Gotta-Get-Down-On-Friday, and although I have no Partyin’! Partyin’! (YEAH!) plans, I’m in a strangely good mood. Because I have candy corn.

Brach’s candy corn, which is really the only kind worth buying (IMO), which is only available for about four-to-six weeks in the fall, and around which I cannot control myself. I will eat it until I am literally ill from sugar-overload. And then I will have “just a couple more” pieces.

We’re just over a week out from Halloween, so I’ll probably have to lay in another bag to get me through the holiday, at which point I’ll need to detox for another year.

So what am I getting for all those trick-0r-treaters? What trick-or-treaters? We haven’t had any come to our door in years. But that doesn’t stop me or the Dude from acting like 8 year olds: OOOH, Peanut M&Ms! PixyStix! Ewww, circus peanuts! True, I won’t be buying much of anything until November 1, because I am poooooor, but watch out, I will drop the People’s Elbow on anyone who tries to get in between me and a half-price bag of Reese’s mini peanut-butter cups.

I’m old enough that part of my childhood included apples and homemade popcorn balls, which were always disappointing. I would hoard Mr. Goodbars and bite-sized Snickers, and pretend to valiantly “share” all those Special Darks and butterscotch drops with my parents. (Bleaahhh.)

So–obviously–today’s FFT is about your favorite (and of course least favorite) Halloween treats. Time to wax nostalgic about your years as a trick-or-treater, or just admit your cheap-and-junky sugar fixes now. And what, if anything, do you pass out on Halloween? Are you the splurger who kids seek out from far-flung neighborhoods? Or is your name cursed by children who remember you as “the toothbrush lady”? I remember you, Toothbrush House.

If you guessed “it’s 2 days before your enormous job application packet is due, PhDork! Better work on that Scholarly Agenda!” then you win! Hair-tearing stress a-go-go!

But if you guessed “It’s Love Your Body Day!”–or even if you didn’t–then you actually win. I wish I could have gotten to this earlier, since I’m probably screwing a lot of our non-US readers out of LYBD, but I don’t mind if you celebrate tomorrow. Or everyday. But this week is bonkers, and I personally can use this day to stop and be nice to my body, rather than 1) ignoring it (which is SOP ’round here these days) or 2) being actively crappy to it, by judging it, or denying it what it needs, or treating it poorly (say, by spending hours working in a janky chair, working knots into my shoulders and locking my mandible up with TMJ).

So, instead of diving into this stack of exams, I’m going to take the evening to do some nice things for my body. I’m gonna take off these trousers–they’re pinchy–and put on something that makes me look and feel like a megababe. I’m gonna make myself something tasty to eat, with lots of sour cream on it. Then I’m going to drink a seriously good beer in the company of friends I don’t see much, and laugh and laugh and laugh. And then I’m going to take a bath or get naked with the Dude or collapse in a heap of body-lovin’, depending on when we get home. OR MAYBE ALL THREE.

]]>http://www.harpyness.com/2011/10/19/guess-what-today-is/feed/14OCCUPY HARPYNESShttp://www.harpyness.com/2011/10/11/occupy-harpyness/
http://www.harpyness.com/2011/10/11/occupy-harpyness/#commentsTue, 11 Oct 2011 13:00:47 +0000http://www.harpyness.com/?p=21355Well, it’s been a week and a half since my first post on the Occupy Wall Street protests. In that time, people have started to pay a lot more attention. Not that the coverage is good or necessarily fair, but the Occupiers can’t be ignored anymore, especially after the arrest of 700 peaceful people on the Brooklyn Bridge on October 1st, and then a march of more than 10,000 people on the 5th. (Estimates of attendance that day range from 2,000 to 30,000 people. I’d split the difference; in any case, it was enormous.)

I’ve stopped by Zuccotti Park/Liberty Plaza a couple of times, donated some simple supplies I could gather from my home, and took part in the October 5th march. And I’m planning on being there–hopefully with the Dude this time–on October 15th, when the next large-scale event is planned.

You should be going, too. The last march, though slow, was peaceful. It’s was also incredibly exhilarating. Thousands of people of all ages, races, and professions were in attendance (don’t be fooled by “trustafarian” rhetoric). There were a number of people there riding coattails to promote pet causes (anti-circumcision, pro-vegan, etc.) but they were also carrying signs and voicing their support for the larger message that corporate influence over the US political process has to end. My favorite chant was that of a group of pre-K children, marching with their mothers/caregivers, proudly shouting “STOP! BEING! GREEDY!”

While the coverage of the protests has necessarily increased, the tone of that coverage still leaves a lot to be desired, even from those who should be sympathetic to the cause. The GOP (and a number of Dems, but they’re being much more circumspect, generally speaking), which today I read now stands for Greedy One Percent, are fuh-reeking out. Please see Jon Stewart on their inherent absurdity.

I’d also recommend David Sirota’s piece at Salon about what’s behind conservatives’ hand-waving criticisms, like calling the protests “riots,” and bandying about that already-tired term “class warfare.” The money quote: “the modern Republican Party doesn’t just object to 1960s-style imagery, tactics and political performance art, it objects to the concrete legislative results of 1960s mass protest.” In other words, they’re scared because public activism, long and slow though it may be, can change policy.

So get on it. Educate yourself by going down to an Occupy event near you. Livestream one of the talks going on at OWS–Slavoj Zizek‘s (transcript at link) this weekend was pretty great–and there’s one today about how income inequality is bad not just for the people suffering in poverty, but for the entire system. Get out in the streets: Occupy Together has all the basic info to help you find a demonstration near you.

Have you been involved in actions in your neighborhood. Please fill us in! How is it going? What do you need?

Fear Me, Umbrellas of the World! Tremble, cheap, Made-in-China Sunglasses! I WILL DESTROY YOU ALLLLLLLLLL!

Ahem.

I have a little problem. With my powers of ruination. Fortunately, they only seem to damage inanimate objects, but I am rough on those objects. When I was little, I couldn’t keep hold of a house key to save my life (my parents loved that one). Later, it was hairbrushes. Seriously, I’d buy them, use them once, and they would wander off, or spontaneously combust, or something. Just…gone. I gave up on keeping track of writing utensils year ago, and have just surrendered myself to TEH SERRRRRRKELLL OF PENNNNNNNZZZ!!! It’s like Take-a-Penny-Leave-a-Penny, but on a cosmic scale.

In more recent years, it’s umbrellas and sunglasses. They blow inside out, or I sit on them, or a lens pops out, or they shred within days, or I simply leave them behind. I curse them by my very touch!

I also have horrible effects on kitchen timers. I’ve gotten a new one for Christmas every year for the past five years, at least, and they never live past May. Cheap ones or fancy, digital or mechanical, it doesn’t matter. I drop them on the floor, or in a sinkful of water, or I set them on the stove and melt them, or crush them underfoot, or dog knows what else. STOP ME BEFORE I KILL AGAIN.

Am I the only one? I hope not. For this week’s FFT, assure me that I’m not the only one who unwittingly wreaks havoc on hapless consumer goods.

I’m soooper-busy with teaching and looking for work and trying to live, which is far more effortful than it should be, so it’s easy for me to say “I don’t have time for activism.” But currently, some chances for activism going on in my neighborhood this weekend relative to two causes that deeply concern me, that make “trying to live” way more effortful than it should be, and that I’d like to bring to your attention.

The first is SlutWalk NYC. We’ve discussed them here before (and do re-read that link; this protest is not without its issues), and maybe you’ve already gotten involved in one in your area. But if you’re ’round these-here parts, Saturday is the day. Meet at Union Square at 11am to make signs, or at 12 noon to start the march. Are you going? Do you wanna meet me there?

Occupy Wall Street you may not have heard much about. That’s not an accident or fault of yours; the coverage in the mainstream media has been abysmal here in the US–and not by accident, I believe. The several hundred young people who have been living in Downtown Manhattan for going on two weeks now (!) have mostly been criticized, downplayed, or mocked (most notably by the Times) or simply ignored by national/network news–even NPR–who, when buttonholed by listeners, offered a weak-sauce excuse (and now are starting to cover it). I don’t know about cable coverage, since I am cable-less. I know the rockin’ Amy Goodman of Democracy Now! has been on top of it, but is Maddow covering this? Colbert? Stewart? Olberman? …Bueller?

Anyway, rather than recap the whole thing, go here and read up, or use your google-fu. If you’re in the NYC area, you’ve got a couple options. Friday night at 5:30, there is a protest outside NYPD headquarters to draw attention to the nasty, disproportionate response the cops have taken against the protesters, including kettling marchers, pepper spraying a group of women peaceably assembled behind a barrier, and deploying unnecessary physical force when cuffing and detaining people they decide are “resisting arrest.” Then, on Saturday, after you’ve SlutWalked, you can head downtown and demonstrate with the 99% at Liberty Plaza/Zuccotti Park from 3-8pm.

If you’re not in this area, you’re sorta off the hook. But only sorta. But you can get involved in your own area. Dozens of cities in the US–and I know we have readers in many of these areas–are having their own satellite protests. You can look up information on them here. Or you can send money or supplies to the protestors. Or you can talk up the marches in your community, and explain to those who scoff at those damn dirty hippies that these young people actually have legitimate grievances, and are providing a rallying point for others. Just yesterday, two large unions–the IWW and Transport Workers Union–officially threw their support behind the protestors. I actually believe that this thing has legs, and I am as skeptical a mofo as you are likely to meet.

And lastly, after you get informed and inspired, here’s an inspirational, if slightly ironic tune:

I did it really purposefully, because I’ve realized that unlike a lot of people, I don’t swear when it makes sense to swear: when you drop something on your foot, or miss the subway train by 10 seconds. Then, I’m more like to hiss “Shhhhh…ugar!” or “Fuuuuu…dge!” It’s kind of twee, actually.

But hoo-boy, do I fuckin’ swear. I swear most often in order to amplify a sentiment. I use profanity as a modifier, not an exclamation. And “fuck”–the Really Bad One–is my amplifier of choice. I use it like most people use “really.” Maybe because I find “really” to be really/fuckin’ overused. But for me, “fucking” is getting to that point, too. I teach public speaking, and at some point, profanity always comes up (probably because of something I said), and I always say that 1) you need to consider your audience and 2) cusswords should be used sparingly, lest they lose their effect and/or make you sound like a dumbass.

See what I did there? I fear that I’m making myself sound like a dumbass.

So, today’s FFT is about swearing, cursing, cussin’, making vulgar oaths, and shit like that. First tell us about your habits and preferences vis-a-vis profanity: do you swear? How much? Which words do you love? Which do you avoid, or find really offensive? Then let me know if you’ve ever had to curb your dirty dirty mouth, and how you managed to do it, ’cause I am seriously sucking donkey balls at cleaning up my act.

]]>http://www.harpyness.com/2011/09/23/friday-fudge-thread-flushing-the-potty-mouth/feed/28Self-Promotion: It Can Be Donehttp://www.harpyness.com/2011/09/20/self-promotion-it-can-be-done/
http://www.harpyness.com/2011/09/20/self-promotion-it-can-be-done/#commentsTue, 20 Sep 2011 16:00:32 +0000http://www.harpyness.com/?p=21205I’ve been thinking again about how hard it is–has been–for me to fight for myself. Professionally, I mean. Hard for me to toot my own horn. I’ve already written here of my discomfort with “selling myself,” but recently, whether it’s the brain meds or the therapy or the fact that it’s fall again and I have finally started to internalize that I earned that PhD, I’ve gotten strong enough or mad enough or desperate enough that I’m taking action.

I’ve been revising my CV, my coverletter, my teaching statement, etc. I’m acting like I am a professional, not a student or a puppyish apprentice. I’m bragging on myself a bit. And? And it’s kind of fantastic. Kinda like this was fantastic.

And just yesterday, I asked a colleague, a tenured man familiar with the ins and outs of our institution, about the possibility of getting funding (for conferences, etc.). I said that I feel like my insultingly low wages should be offset by some of the other benefits of institutional affiliation. I said that I’ve worked hard for this school, that I’ve brought new and exciting curriculum to it, that I’m an excellent teacher who really helps students learn. I told him I wanted to be nominated for such-and-such teaching award. I said “I deserve better treatment than I’m getting.”

And he agreed. And he gave me information, suggesting possibilities for funding (oy, the bureaucratic hoops!), and said he’d be happy to write me glowing recommendations for jobs or that award I so totally deserve. He even offered to collaborate on some sort of article about the class we’re teaching together.

!!!

I wish I could tell you what exactly has changed that I felt okay about it, but I don’t know. Maybe, now that I’m done with the long, solitary slog that is the dissertation, I’ve freed up emotional energy and will to fight again? Granted, asking is just the first step. I still have to do all this fucking work that may or may not pay off. But finally asking, and hearing “yes, you’re right” was positively elating, and has me ready to go out there and kick some ass.

All this to say that yes, it can be done. And it’s worth doing. You can do it. YOO KAN DOO EET.